


Beautiful Disaster

by TheAllonsyGirl



Series: The Presfield Files [2]
Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: Caulscott - Freeform, F/M, Presfield, life is strange - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-16
Updated: 2017-10-16
Packaged: 2019-01-18 09:10:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12385167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheAllonsyGirl/pseuds/TheAllonsyGirl
Summary: Mark Jefferson is coming for Nathan Prescott. Nathan knows it. Max knows it. The only question is, will it be too late?





	Beautiful Disaster

Nathan blinked slowly, a cascade of tears falling down his ashen and pallid face. He was drowned in a shroud of darkness, the cool moon barely making more than foreboding shadows that danced across his walls. He sniffled and looked across the room, taking in every minute detail of its mundane presentation. He pulled his cellphone from his jacket pocket and scrolled through his contact list, hovering his slender thumb over Max's name. He took a few shaky breaths, his heart keeping a quickened rhythm as he pressed the call button. He held it to his ear and closed his eyes. His heart fluttered as Max's voice drifted through his ear, in a falsehood as her answer phone message met him. He licked his lips to take away the arid dryness upon them and spoke in a way that only reinforced his fragility and broken soul;

"Max... it's Nathan. I just wanted to say... I'm sorry. I didn't want to hurt Kate, or Rachel, or... I didn't want to hurt anybody. Everybody... used me! Mr. Jefferson is coming for me now. All this shit will be over soon. Watch out, Max... He wants to hurt you next. Sorry." He hung up and threw his phone against the wall, the glass shattered in a manner much like Nathan's very resolve; a symbol of his unstable descent into the darkness. His head snapped up as he heard a door close; he recognised it to be the main dormitory door. He barely dared to take in a breath, and his eyes darted around the room, before fixating on the door. It was then he heard the voice that chilled his blood, that sent his brainwaves into an existential fit of panic; the voice of Mark Jefferson. 

"Nathan...? Nathan...I know you're here," Jefferson stepped slowly down the corridor, his entire presence an insidious fog that pervaded every atom of the air around him. He had grown weary of the broken bird that was Nathan Prescott, he had grown livid with his instability and his naive mistakes. He scraped the gauge needle against the wall as he crept down the hallways. The sound of it caused an uncontrollable tremor in every pore of Nathan's body. He scrambled underneath his bed and curled up like a newborn, stifling his whimpers with his fist, biting into his flesh in sheer terror. 

"Come now Nathan, I'm losing patience now," his menacing whispers growing ever closer, his footsteps ceasing. Nathan held his breath and closed his eyes. He wished that he possessed the purity and the devotion of Kate Marsh, so much so that he silently pleaded with a God he did not believe in to somehow save him with divine intervention. He knew that nobody knew, nor did they care that he was about to lose his life. On the contrary, they would be relieved to be free of his episodes and his overall existence. In some ways he felt the same way; he even considered calling out to Mr Jefferson and walking into oblivion of his own volition. It was a fleeting notion however, and he stayed ridged as he heard the handle of his door twist and turn with an impatience and insistence.

"Nathan...you can't hide from me, I'll always find you, and you know my policy; always...take the shot," his voice was an entity of itself and Nathan felt compelled to exorcise it and the monster who possessed it. His whole body flinched as the wood of his door splintered in fractals. His face pressed into the ground, and with his one open eye he saw the black dress shoes belonging to Mark Jefferson slowly stride into the room. Nathan slowed his breathing to a stop almost and he watched with wide eyes as Jefferson moved around the room. he knew it was a matter of mere seconds before he would be dragged from his hiding place, and his death would be ever more painful because he had remained silent when his compliance had been demanded. Jefferson narrowed his eyes and his gaze settled on the remnants of what once was Nathan's smart phone. He reached down with a latex-gloved hand and picked it up, with a dry chuckle.

"Oh Nathan...you see? This is one of the many reasons I have to do this; you lack the elegance and self control to be my protege," Jefferson sighed out deeply and sat upon Nathan's bed. He fondled the plunger of the needle between his fingers and looked around the room. His feet were a mere inch away from Nathan's face and he bit into his lip to prevent his whole body from convulsing and giving himself up to perversion and ultimately an agonising demise. Jefferson knew it had been a bold move to come to Nathan's dorm, to be so brazen, but he knew that not a soul in the world knew what he was doing, nor what he was capable of and that excited him. It gave him a rush of pleasure to know he could do anything he wanted and no one would ever get in his way. The one thorn in his side of course, was Nathan himself. He knew too much, and was too careless, but as soon as he had taken care of this ugly business, he could focus his attentions back to his next object. Jefferson pressed at the phone screen, and though shattered, it still illuminated as he touched it. His skin grew hot in an uncharacteristic moment of anxiety as he saw one, then two, then three missed calls. A fourth was coming in just as he scanned over the screen with his calculating eyes. 

"Why? Why are you calling him?" he murmured to himself as Max's phone number flashed up again and again. He stood up hastily, and sheathed the needle in its cover, placing it in his pocket. he removed his gloves as he left the room, Nathan's phone in his hand as he walked away. He silenced the ringer and made his way out of the dormitories and out to the parking lot. His black car remained there alone as every other staff member slumbered in their homes, pleased to be away from the Academy for the night. He jumped in and started up the engine, throwing Nathan's phone into the glove compartment he set off for the barn, rage permeating him as his next subject continued to call his last remaining complication in the world as it stood. 

Nathan allowed his breath to rush out, wheezing gasps and sobs rocked his body and he whimpered into his hands. He did not move from under the bed, even though every muscle in his body cried out from the harshness of the carpeted concrete beneath him. He had heard Jefferson leave, he knew that he had left the dormitories but he had not left his head; and he never would.

Max bit her lip and looked over at Chloe anxiously as they drove. Chloe had been furiously researching the clues they had uncovered when Max's phone had begun to ring. She didn't look up at first, but when she heard Max audibly gasp she had turned to her with a perplexed and worrisome frown. Max had been reluctant to answer any private number since Nathan had started to send her menacing texts so she screened it, her eyes watching it closely. She had pressed the button to listen to the message the number had left behind and held it to her ear. Her stomach had dropped when she heard Nathan's voice, but it was different, so different. He sounded completely distraught and everything she had believed to be true had been shattered. 

"Chloe...you have to listen to this, it's..." she had placed her phone on the desk beside her and put it on loudspeaker before pressing play. Nathan's mournful refrain rang out into the room and they had looked at each other in confusion and despair. 

"Jefferson? The art teacher? Nathan is saying he did it?" Chloe frowned and clenched her fist in frustration. She had placed all of her available anger into hating Nathan since that day in the bathroom and she was angry that some of it may have been misplaced.  
"Bullshit. He killed Rachel, it was him." Chloe bit back at Max.

"Chloe...listen to him, he's terrified, he's unstable but...I don't think he's lying. I can't believe I'm going to say this but...we have to go to him we have to help Nathan," Max looked at Chloe, nervously awaiting a barrage of fury. 

"Are you fucking kidding me? Even if he didn't do it to Rachel, he drugged me Max, he's a sick pervert," Chloe retorted and rose from the desk in a tense manner. 

"I know...I know...but what if he didn't do it? What if he was being manipulated?" Max tried to appease Chloe and yet instil a sense of empathy for Nathan; a thing she never considered she would be doing. 

"How can you defend him?!" Chloe smashed a clenched fist down on the desk and Max jumped.

"I'm not defending him! I'm just...even if he did those terrible things, do you think leaving him to die makes us any better? What if Jefferson killed Rachel and used Nathan to take the fall because he's sick? Could you live with yourself knowing you left a vulnerable person to die?" Chloe closed her eyes and growled before pulling her jacket on angrily.

"Fine, Moral Max, let's go to Blackwell and save the fucker," her eyes burned with anger and confusion, but Max alighted from the bed and nodded, following Chloe out of her room and down to the truck. That is how they had come to drive in silence, an awkward unease hung in the air between them.

"He isn't picking up the phone...we might be too late," Max spoke quietly and she found herself feeling the pull of guilt somewhere in the pit of her stomach and Chloe looked over. Max thought she saw a glimmer of regret in her eyes for a moment as she caught her gaze.

"We're almost there. What if Jefferson is still on campus? You'd better get ready to rewind if fuck--Nathan...is telling the truth about him," Chloe's tone had softened and she appeared to be a little more level headed than she had been earlier.

"We can't count on my rewind all the time Chloe, I have no idea what I'm doing to time and it didn't work when I had to save Kate; I had to save her on my own," Chloe nodded and pulled out David's gun. 

"I know, but we're prepared now," She pulled into the student lot and cut the engine. Max hated guns more and more every moment she looked upon them, but she knew in this case they had no choice but to utilise a practical defence in case her powers relapsed again. They walked with haste yet moved in the shadows silently so as not to rouse any attention as they headed to the boy's dorms. Max made one final attempt to call Nathan and it went straight to voice mail. She gulped and put her phone away, the guilt gnawing away at her stomach so much so she feared it may form a tumour and devour her whole. They pushed open the doors and navigated round the corner and to the left to room 111.

"Nathan?" Max meekly called out as she pushed his splintered door. Nathan bristled from underneath the bed, still whimpering. Max and Chloe stepped into the room and Nathan turned his head to see their black boots and converse stop before the bed. Max frowned; she could hear sniffling but the room appeared to be empty. She knelt down beside the bed and pulled up the damask covers to see a petrified shell of Nathan Prescott. 

"Oh my god, Nathan!" she reached out her hand to take his, and he dissolved into broken sobbing, clutching her hand tightly. Between her and Chloe, they managed to get Nathan out from under the bed and rest him upon the covers. He clutched Max's hoodie and buried his face into her shoulder, and sobbed; even though they had never gotten along he had been rescued by her and would forever be in her debt. Once he had calmed enough to speak, he started to explain the convoluted and terrifying situation he had found himself in. 

"Mr Jefferson was here, he sat on the bed an inch away from me and he took my phone. He took advantage of me, Max. He was nice at first, he was like the father I should have had. He asked me where he could get all these different drugs, so I started to supply him from my dealer; Frank," he paused and looked up at Chloe;

"I didn't kill Rachel, he did. He drugged me too...there are pictures of us together...in the Dark Room," Max nodded indicating they had seen them, and it was as she feared; he had no idea. 

"When I came into the diner, wearing Rachel's clothes, you thought I was Rachel." she caught Nathan's gaze and he nodded.

"I didn't know she was dead, not until yesterday; the pictures he took of us, she was still alive, just drugged. I don't remember what happened but there was...he put us in a hole," he swallowed thickly and looked down at his hands in shame. Chloe watched him with calculating eyes, her expression softening with each of his words, yet she remembered one thing she could not let go of;

"You drugged me," she looked at him unblinking, and he let his eyes fall to the floor with unbridled guilt.

"I know...I-I'm so sorry, I can barely remember it. With all the drugs, prescription and non prescription, I do things and I don't remember them. I was out of control, drunk, stoned, and I can't take it back. I would never have touched you I hope you know that. I just wanted him to be proud of me, to see that I was a great photographer like him," Nathan shook his head, knowing nothing he could say would assuage his guilt or fix what he had savagely broken. Chloe sat down on the bed beside him;

"I can't keep carrying this bullshit around with me. You're going to help us now. Help us take down that sick fucking pervert and we're okay, just whatever," she felt awkward and unsure where she found the strength to say those things, she could hold grudges better than anyone but this was bigger than Nathan and Max and herself. Her fire and loathing had switched lanes and was speeding ahead and straight for Mark Jefferson.

"Deal," Nathan held his hand out as an olive branch to solidify their unlikely union. Max put a hand on Nathan's shoulder and smiled faintly at him, his fragility was humanising him and she almost felt compelled to hug him, to steal the haunted look from his eyes and quench them with the light that they so lacked in that moment. She had never looked at Nathan before in a way that wasn't scornful or disparaging, yet taking the time to really see him, she saw something that awakened her. He wasn't a psychotic maniac, in that moment, he was merely a beautiful disaster.


End file.
